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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506741">I Heard It Through the Grapevine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412'>Llama1412</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Don't Cry For Me, Temeria [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Background Relationships, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Gossip, Language of Flowers, POV Outsider, Secret Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:32:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“It is easier to dam a river than to stop gossip” – Filipino proverb.<br/>Thoughts about our main cast and all that they get up to from the people of Vergen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iorveth/Vernon Roche</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Don't Cry For Me, Temeria [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Scoia'tael Gossip: Courting Iorveth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I love outsider POVs and I love a good gossip session. Sooo, have some outsider views and their assumptions about Iorveth, Roche, and others.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mona Delsingore had served under Iorveth’s command for a long time now. Well, technically she served under Maeral’s command, but Maeral was one of Iorveth’s most trusted commanders. She was part of Iorveth’s inner circle, and Mona knew that Maeral would follow Iorveth through fire with total trust that he would be there at the end to put it out, if she needed. That kind of faith – well, it was catching. Mona didn’t know Iorveth well, though she’d served in his guard several times. He’d even complimented her shot once! </p><p> </p><p>She didn’t know him well, but she <em> trusted </em> him. That was why she was here, in Vergen, trying to build a new life with her beloved. It was hard, living alongside dwarves and humans that still spat at them, if not for the crime of being an elf, then for being Scoia’tael. </p><p> </p><p>But it was getting less common. Mona was actually starting to hope that in the future, they might not have to put up with it at all.</p><p> </p><p>When was the last time she had had hope? If this is what Saskia inspired in Iorveth, then Mona would follow Saskia for eternity.</p><p> </p><p>But as great as hope was, living in the moment where the merchants sneered at them and the guards glared at them suspiciously <em> sucked. </em>So of course, the only way to deal with it was to get roaringly drunk and bitch.</p><p> </p><p>Sharing a bottle with other Scoia’tael ranting and raving about their weeks was the highlight of Mona’s life right now. Not because there was anything wrong between her and her beloved, Delvan. In fact, they were both equally invested in the mystery that gatherings inevitably turned to after they’d gotten the important stuff out of the way.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you see?” Ivor asked. “Iorveth’s growing his hair out, I’m sure of it!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s true! Not only that, I would swear he’s been wearing a hair pin under his bandana,” Gven said. “I’m positive.”</p><p> </p><p>“You think someone’s courting Iorveth?”</p><p> </p><p>“You think someone’s <em> succeeding!?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Who could it be?” Mona asked leaning forward in interest. “Do you think Iorveth’s inner circle knows about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“They have to! Right? I mean, if we can see it…”</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of courting gifts do you think someone would give Iorveth?” Delvan asked. “I mean, I’ve known Iorveth for half a century now and I’m not sure I could tell you his favorite color.”</p><p> </p><p>“...green?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, maybe red? The bandana and all?”</p><p> </p><p>“What did you see, Gven? Could you tell what it was?” </p><p> </p><p>Gven hummed, tapping her chin. “Well, it was lumpy. So maybe a flower or something?”</p><p> </p><p>“They sell pretty hair accessories with leaves in Rhundurin Square,” Bleddyn said. “Bought my proposal gift to Theridd there. The craftsmanship was superb.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe the dwarves are good for something, then,” Evan murmured and Thaggard kicked him. “Oh, you know what I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you’re a dick,” the dwarf replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, but who do we think it could be? I mean – it’s not Maeral, right?” Vidar wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe?”</p><p> </p><p>“No way!” Mona slashed her hand through the air. “Maeral says he’s like a weird, sad uncle. She would never! Besides, her and Sylvar have a thing, don’t they?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nu-uh,” Evan scoffed. “She could do <em> way </em> better.”</p><p> </p><p>“The point is,” Delvan said loudly, “that she’s probably not the one courting Iorveth. So who is?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ciaran?”</p><p> </p><p>“After the split <em> they </em> had? No way.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, but come on, what if that’s why he’s hiding it? Because they’re not ready to be together, but their love for one another overrode the difference in their ideals and they just had to pursue it!” Gven narrated dreamily.</p><p> </p><p>Half the room collectively sighed. </p><p> </p><p>“Romantic.”</p><p> </p><p>“I always thought they would get together, you know. I mean, Ciaran always <em> worshipped </em> Iorveth. Until – well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Until Iorveth chose Saskia? Oh! Could that be it? Maybe Saskia is courting Iorveth, all proper like?” Mona gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh, what if they can’t be together because the humans all think she’s some holy virgin or whatever, and that’s why they hide it!?”</p><p> </p><p>“Bah, who cares what the humans think?”</p><p> </p><p>“Iorveth kinda does, now. When it comes to her, at least.”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, I gotta say, I get why. Like – the way she fought?” Bleddyn’s eyes were dazed and lovelorn.</p><p> </p><p>“The way she <em> yells. </em>I’ve never seen a human woman take command of a room so effectively.”</p><p> </p><p>“And she always smells kinda nice? Is that just me?” Delvan shrugged weakly. “A little like sandalwood and coal smoke?”</p><p> </p><p>Mona laughed, poking her beloved in the side. “Going around sniffing dh’oine now are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, Iorveth <em> does </em> want us to blend in,” he laughed, catching her hand and bringing it to his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh man, imagine though, if Iorveth <em> is </em> getting courted by a human,” Vidar chewed on her lip. “I mean – talk about forbidden romance. Iorveth, one of the last true Aen Seidhe, courted by a human.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ha! Even the humans acknowledge how important he is!”</p><p> </p><p>“No, but think about it. Iorveth’s not just getting courted. He’s wearing the gifts. He’s <em> accepting. </em>If it’s a human…” Bleddyn met each of their eyes seriously.</p><p> </p><p>“I think,” Thaggard said slowly, “I think if it were Saskia, it’d be all right.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I could accept Saskia,” Gven nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Incredible leader or not, she’s still a human, still a bloede dh’oine! Iorveth would never!” Evan swore. </p><p> </p><p>“I dunno, he was kinda starstruck by her from the start. I mean, with good reason, but like... c’mon, a year ago, would we ever have expected to be following a human? Would we have thought <em> Iorveth </em> would ever let a human go without killing them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just ‘cause he thinks we need to coexist doesn’t mean he’s fucking humans now!” Evan argued, “he’s looking out for our survival. A year ago, would we have thought we might be living a life where we can sleep a full night without waking to take watch?”</p><p> </p><p>Mona shrugged, nodding to herself. She certainly never would’ve guessed that she might finally be able to truly settle down with her beloved. But Iorveth had made it possible.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoever it is,” she murmured, “I hope Iorveth is happy. He deserves that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye,” Thaggardd raised his glass in agreement. “Whoever they are, if they hurt him, we’ll hunt ‘em down.”</p><p> </p><p>“Damn right we will,” Evan cheered, punching his fist into his palm. </p><p> </p><p>They drank in silence for a few minutes before Gven spoke up, “okay, but just pretend – what kind of gift would you get Iorveth if you were gonna court him? I mean – he’s <em> Iorveth! </em>You can’t give him something disappointing!”</p><p> </p><p>Mona laughed, listening to her friends and comrades come up with more and more ridiculous ideas for how to woo their leader. These evenings truly were the highlight of her week – a week that she spent weaving beside human craftsmen, a week that she spent going to work and eating and chatting and laughing beside humans. </p><p> </p><p>A year ago, she never would have imagined that this could be her life. Now? Now she wouldn’t give it up for anything.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dwarven Merchant: An Elven Gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A dwarven merchant helps a human man find a gift.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, this was originally written to mirror the end of Chapter 14 of (Im)Perfect Strangers, but then it turned out differently. So it's vaguely set around there???</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arna Strecra had worked as a merchant in the city of Vergen for nearly eighty years. It was a good living for a dwarf – he had contacts down in the forges who gave him first choice of their wares, and the market in Rhundurin Square was always bustling and busy. Arna regularly brought home little trinkets that didn’t sell, and while he didn’t personally have any children, his sister Verha had a ragged bunch spanning from newly mined to sixty year old menaces. She was always glad when he was able to give the lil pebbles something new to entertain them.</p><p> </p><p>Today had been a profitable day. Saskia had returned to Vergen, and the city had turned out in droves to see greet her at the gates – which just so happened to mean that they wandered through the market on their way. Arna had sold most of his stock, and even dipped into the items he was saving for tomorrow’s market before the rush had died down. </p><p> </p><p>By the time the man arrived, most of the vendors were winding down and closing up, eager to return home for hot meals. But Arna was in no rush – he’d gotten in the habit of snacking throughout the day and while a warm dinner would be appreciated, he wasn’t really hungry just yet.</p><p> </p><p>Which was why he waved the man over to his booth, gesturing dramatically to his display. “Now what might a respectable man such as yourself be looking for, good sir?”</p><p> </p><p>The man – a human wearing light armor, a tunic with a Temerian emblem, and a truly ugly piece of headwear – approached him, looking over his selection with tired eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m really just browsing,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, is there anything you’re in the market for? I specialize in jewelry – maybe for someone special in your life?” Arna prodded.</p><p> </p><p>The man hummed, looking across Arna’s array of hair pins. “Actually…” he murmured to himself. “These – I don’t really know what to do with hair. But what would be good for a little girl?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, any of these clips or combs could work quite well!” Arna smiled, “you just weave them through the hair by the scalp to make them stay, so they work with nearly any hairstyle. Is there something in particular the young miss in mind might like? I’ve got some animal hair accessories over here – or perhaps flowers?”</p><p> </p><p>Arna mostly kept the leaf and flower jewelry for the elves that came along, but the human looked at them with interest. In fact, he particularly seemed interested in – oh dear.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I wouldn’t recommend that flower for a child,” Arna said delicately. “Forget me nots are really intended for a more <em> equal </em> partner, if you understand me.”</p><p> </p><p>The man blinked at him. “No, not for the kids. But would he like it?” the human muttered to himself and ah, perhaps this man was in the market for courting jewelry after all.</p><p> </p><p>“This is an excellent piece to show commitment to a relationship,” Arna said gently, holding up the hair pin that had a bouquet of gemstone forget me nots on the end. “It’s understated, but it shows the depth of emotion and care – and of course, hair accessories at all are quite intimate.” For elves, anyway, but who else would want to put flowers in their hair? Dwarves were nice and sensible – they decorated their hair with silver and gold and geometric shapes. Not <em> flowers. </em>Only an elf would be so silly as to do that.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” the man said softly, “yeah, I think I’ll take it. And, uh – oh, these are cool!” He indicated a few rather garish pieces that Arna honestly hadn’t been sure he could sell. The design was lovely – a dragon with spread wings, attached to a small would comb, so that the dragon could sit on the hair as if in flight. But the dragons were opalescent and shiny, and frankly, just a bit <em> much. </em></p><p> </p><p>But if this man was interested? Well, never let it be said that Arna failed to close a sale.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, entirely one of a kind! Well, three of a kind – but these three are the only ones like this in existence, I can assure you of that,” Arna smiled winningly.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I think the kids would love these. They do seem to like dragons,” the human nodded to himself. “Yeah, I’ll take them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wonderful!” Arna grinned, wrapping the pieces for him. “That will be 70 orens.”</p><p> </p><p>The man handed over the coin, and Arna was more than happy to offer him the wrapped forget me not pin for his special someone and the dragon combs for his – children? Maybe the special someone’s children? Whoever the were, Arna hoped they liked them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/168251736059390110/sent/?invite_code=54b45609b4204c7a8a0eab397790b821&amp;sender=712905953422559118&amp;sfo=1">Dragon hair combs</a>, <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/585397651557083383/sent/?invite_code=accb1b872fb447f5af62fd10d6c6287f&amp;sender=712905953422559118&amp;sfo=1">forget me not hair pin</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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